


Demonstration using Slippers

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Twelve Further Days of Christmas [10]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5639386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson's slippers have been moved; there is only one real suspect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demonstration using Slippers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for okapi1895

“These are not my slippers,” I exclaimed, looking at the pair next to my chair.

I had returned from seeing a patient and had removed my boots in the doorway of our rooms in deference to Mrs Hudson’s need to clean. The stairs she declared a lost cause, so a little extra mud on them would make little difference.

“Are they not?” Holmes asked, looking up from the papers he was reading. “Someone must have swapped them, a mistake whilst cleaning perhaps.”

I did not think this was the case. Bessie, the maid, was extremely careful to replace everything as it had been after she had cleaned underneath. It is true Mrs Hudson occasionally moved items she considered inappropriately placed (Holmes’ pipe which had been smouldering on the carpet had been the latest item to unaccountably have been re-located); but my slippers sitting neatly beside my chair did not come into that category.

There was only one logical conclusion. I looked at Holmes and said, “Why are you wearing my slippers?”

“Whatever makes you say that, dear boy?”

I was prevented by the timely arrival of Inspector Lestrade from telling him exactly what I thought of a man who misappropriates another’s slippers.

“Have you made much progress with the case?” Lestrade said as soon as he had entered the room.

“I believe I have solved it,” Holmes replied. “Let me demonstrate to you.” He pointed at the slippers beside my chair. “Whose slippers would you say they were?”

“Dr Watson’s, of course,” Lestrade answered.

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

Lestrade appeared surprised at being asked what, to him, was a simple question. “There are two of you who live here, you are already wearing your slippers, therefore the other pair must belong to Dr Watson.”

“Unfortunately, your logic is flawed. Tell him, Watson.”

“Holmes,” I sighed, “for reasons best known to himself, is wearing my slippers.”

“They look the same,” Lestrade said.

“All of which goes to illustrate my point,” Holmes said. “Take a seat, Lestrade, and I will explain.”

“Is there any chance I could have my slippers back?” I asked. I might have sounded a little peevish, but my feet were getting cold.

“Of course, these aren’t very comfortable.” Holmes stood and I retrieved my rightful slippers before myself taking a seat to listen to Holmes’ explanation.

He began, “You, Lestrade, represent the outsider’s point of view, which is that of the detective in our case. You cannot tell our slippers apart, and we, entering the scene of the crime, could see nothing amiss.”

At this point Lestrade made to object, but Holmes continued. “Agreed, there were blood stains on the carpet, but I was convinced the clues were in the rest of the room, which appeared to have been untouched, as was confirmed by the housekeeper. So, to revert to my point: Watson was able to correctly determine they were not his slippers without even trying them on. How did you do it?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. They just looked wrong.”

“I could itemise the differences, which you would have subconsciously noted, but are unable to articulate. However, this is not important for the purposes of our demonstration. You knew they had been changed. Likewise, our killer had looked at the original crime scene and had spotted something out of place. It is quite possible it was no more than a newspaper had been turned over, or a letter had been slightly disturbed. Nothing a housekeeper would be aware of.”

“So what you’re saying, Holmes, is the murderer glanced at the scene, realised something had changed, and knew who had done it?”

“Precisely.”

“But that would imply it was...” Lestrade stopped, not wishing to name the home owner.

“Indeed,” Holmes said. “Identifying the murderer has been the simple part. I am going to call on brother Mycroft; it may be for the best if he can arrange for a certain gentleman to be posted to the colonies.”

 


End file.
